Invictus: Dawn of a New Game
by The Cake Always Lies
Summary: 58 years after The Districts won back The Capitol, it was lost again to Ares Valor and his followers. A man that believed the Panem before Katniss was the way forward. However, Panem's new ally, England, has proposed something that even District born Ares can not stand, one last Hunger Games. The catch? Panem must cheer them on or face going to war with England. SYOT OPEN 10/12
1. Chapter 1

_Out of the night that covers me,_

 _Black as the pit from pole to pole,_

 _I thank whatever gods may be_

 _For my unconquerable soul._

* * *

She looked at herself in the mirror, the sapphire stone around her neck glinting in the sunlight. The stone was beautiful, the back encased in pure silver that connected to her necklace. It was a gift from her fiance, something equally as beautiful as her own blue eyes. However, Zenobia was always told by her mother that her eyes resembled that of a stormy ocean rather than the pretty little stone around her neck. In fact, her whole personality resembled that of the water rather than something small and quaint. She might have seemed shy at first but deep down, she was far from timid. Otherwise, why would she be married to Ares Valor, president of Panem?

He was a harsh, stern man who had lived in the country Katniss Everdeen had created thirty years before his birth. The world where everyone receives the same and is treated equally just does not work and the Panem she helped created proved that.

Crime skyrocketed, people now knowing that unless they killed someone, there was nothing the government could do to stop them. Soon judges quit, unsatisfied being paid the same as someone working in the mines from Twelve. This lead to the downfall of the justice system and Panem spiralled out of control.

Ares own parents were killed by the criminals that ran loose through the streets, blown up by people who cheered for freedom and Katniss. It was only a matter of time before rebels rose up from the ashes, cheering for the old Panem and leading them was Ares.

Once The Capital was attacked by a neighbouring country, Ares saw his chance and gathered up rebels and attacked the faulty system. After a five-year battle, the man took power, taking the country away from the clueless Katniss supporters who become more and more silent as time went by.

Ares came from a long line of One's so when he travelled District Nine on his Presidential tour, he connected Zenobia's eyes to Sapphire almost immediately. He had planned to marry from a District that was against him, allowing them to feel more connected to him. But when he met the then seventeen-year-old, that all became secondary.

She wished she could say he swept her off her feet, asked her to marry him and whisked her away to The Capitol. Sadly, things were much more complicated than that and it took a while her to warm up to the rugged looking man.

Yet, here she was, standing in front of the mirror, in a dress that would have fed her family for a year, procrastinating about meeting the same man, a man she was soon to be married to. She loved him, she would admit but he had some twisted and crazy ideas.

"Miss Kasius?" a small voice called from the other side of the door, accompanied with a small tapping. Zenobia bit her lip and continued to ignore the woman. "Miss?" she said, far more urgently than before, her tapping sounding more like punches against the mahogany. Zenobia gave a sigh, brushing down her cupcake style, yellow dress and turning to the door with a fake smile.

"Come in!" she sighed, fixing the yellow, silk bow in her hair. The door creaked opened, a small, stout women waddling in. Her brown eyes scanned Zenobia's outfit before breaking out into a smile.

"You look beautiful, miss-"

"Thank you,"

"Mr Valor is a very lucky man," she laughed fiddling with the silver cuff link on her maid's outfit. Zenobia bowed her head, her cheeks going a slight pinkish colour. "If you don't mind me saying, miss-"

"It's fine, I am grateful for the compliment," she said shyly, a worn out smile playing on her lips. "Have you come to lead me to the meeting?" she questioned, grabbing her shoulder bag and walking towards the door. The woman seemed confused at first but then her eyes lit up with realisation. She gave a small jump and then rushed out of the door, gesturing for Zenobia to follow.

* * *

Ares wasn't the best looking man by all means. Under his scarred face was the ghost of a good looking man but the battle to take back The Capitol had taken its tole. Under his light blue, the pinstriped suit was a stocky body, covered in dozens of bullet wounds, an eerie reminder to the man of how lucky he was to still be present on the earth. His white blonde hair was short in an attempt to hide the bald patches caused by stressed and his sea green eyes allowed a glimpse into a war zone. Maybe it was his battered appearance diverting the eye away from the effects age had on the President, but he looked young for his age like time had frozen him at the period where he was a twenty-year-old war general.

Despite his age and downright terrifying appearance, no one battered an eyelid when he walked into the room with his nineteen-year-old fiance, Zenobia, on his arm. The girl was stunning, a tall, long legged blonde with striking blue eyes, framed by long, catty eyelashes and porcelain coloured skin. Men swooned over her the second she entered the room, flirting was something she had grown to expect from Ares' government friends. However, every time someone made a move, she simply pierced her light, pink lips and took her fiance's' hand with a spine-chilling gaze falling on the person who dared to challenge her loyalty.

Sadly, their latest guests, from a neighbouring country called England, were no different. They had a secret alliance with President Snow but after his fall, the new Panem had refused any alliance with the country. It was clearly a loss on their part as the attack from England is what weakened them enough to allow Ares to take over as ruler of Panem. Needing the support, he agreed straight away to the alliance.

The Prime Minister of England, George Jackson, gestured for the Ares and Zenobia to take a seat in front of him on the red velvet sofa. George made Ares appearance seem inviting and sort after being that he looked more like a corpse rather than a living, breathing being. His, white, pasty skin clung to the bone, his cheeks sagging and sunken grey eyes that matched his thinning grey hair were framed by dark circles. Both his right and left hands were clutching that of a brown and blonde haired, scarcely dressed, females, their oversized breasts almost breaking free of the thin, tight top that covered them. Behind George was a redheaded girl, dressed in the same attire as the other two, massaging his bony shoulders.

"Ares, please meet my wives, Annie, Cleeta and Ebony," George said breathlessly, pointing to each one of the girls while his guests sat down.

Ares gave a nod, taking Zenobia's hand in his hand and running his thumb along her engagement ring. "This is my soon-to-be wife, Zenobia," the blonde woman gave a small wave, a shy smile on her lips.

"What a beautiful name and women," George giggled, "but only the one? Live a little, boy," Ares' grip tightened at this comment, Zenobia glancing over to him with concern. He glanced over to his fiance and gave a sigh.

"Where I am from, you have one love, one partnership and for me, that is Zenobia," the girl squeezed his hand back, the warm fuzzy feeling of pride in the pit of her stomach that the hot headed male was able to address a topic he felt strongly about without launching a chair at the elderly man.

"Oh, my apologies, I had no idea there was feelings involved...you know with her age and all-"

"Well, you were mistaken, shall we continue with the issue you called us here for?" Zenobia bluntly replied, leaning forward with a stern and unforgiving look in her eye. George pulled his hand away from the dark haired girl and started to stroke his bristly chin, chuckling to himself as he looked at the pair before him.

"It's nice to know Panem, or whatever it is called, has two head strong individuals, such as yourself," he said, his voice slightly raspy. He waved his free hand in the air until a bald butler ran over, placing a clear mask over his face. Ares looked on with confusion as the man breathed in the smoky substance, taking the mask off, his breathing back to normal once more. "Now, I am sure you know I didn't just invite you here to congratulate you on your engagement-"

"We guessed that sir, although, you should be clear about your motives in the future, for security reasons,"

"You are not in a war anymore, boy, you can trust us," George said sternly, causing Ares to stiffen up. "It is a gift for your engagement but also for the people of your Nation, to show we understand them and come in peace,"

"And what is this _gift_?" Zenobia asked, leaning back in the chair. Ares seemed uneasy like he was getting ready to spring from his chair and tear Mr Jackson's head clean off. "I will have you know that our people are very hard to please," she said this, thinking back to the constant riots that were going on right now because Ares re-formed the alliance with the British once more. There would be more to come if they didn't like this peace offering from them.

"Maybe, but we know what your people like, they can't help but love it...Ares, tell me, do you remember The Hunger Games?" Ares shivered at the thought, he had only ever been told by his parents, all victors from his District dead and tapes destroyed but that was all he needed. They sounded barbaric and unnecessary, the only thing he agreed with Katniss on.

"Hm, I have heard stories-"

"Then you will love this, picture, A Hunger Games full of children, my countries children," George said, a bright happy smile on his room was filled with a stunned silence. Ares looked around the room, each wife and servant of George, looking slightly uneasy at the idea.

"Excuse me?" Zenobia asked, her blue eyes wide with fear.

"To celebrate our partnership and unity as allies, I shall present twelve of our people to celebrate Panem and entertain your people. I mean what better way to show we are just like them than taking part in what they enjoy?"

"I don't really think we should go ahead with this-"

"We have already reaped them, they are already on a ship to Ameri-I mean, Panem," he said with a cunning smile.

Zenobia looked over to a guard who just looked away and cleared his throat. "I think you have us all wrong, they won't appreciate this thoughtful gift-"

"Then make them, you are their leaders, lead them!" George growled again, rising from his chair only to be pushed down by one of his wives. "I have faith in you, Ares, something I need to keep this alliance alive, please don't make it be misplaced," although he said this like any sweet old man, Ares knew it was a threat, if he could not make his people cheer on one more Hunger Games, they would be bombed out of existence.

"Okay, Sir, my apologies-"

"That's more like it," George said with a toothless grin, like he had not just threatened a nation with war. "I guess all that's left to say now then is let The Games Begin!"

* * *

 **Hey and welcome to my first Hunger Games fanfiction and SYOT. I have seen a lot of these so I thought I'd give it a shot.**

 **So this is set in a Panem AFTER Katniss took it from Snow only for it to be overthrown once more. This takes place 58 years after the events of MockingJay.**

 **The tributes in this story are from England, not Panem.**

 **Look on my profile for a quick overview of life in this new England, District information, tribute list and submission form. Everything you need should be there. If you need more, feel free to message me.**

 **Until then, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, I am super proud of myself. Review, submit and follow and as I am doing a sponsor system, after every chapter, I will ask you some questions. Each one is worth an amount of points. The supplies up for grabs will be revealed later on.**

 **Questions:**

 **How old is Ares? (3 points)**

 **What is Zenobia's last name? (1 point)**

 **What were the names of George's wives? (1 point)**

 **What colour was the ribbon in Zenobia's hair? (1 point)**

 **May the odds be ever in your favour.**


	2. A Quick but Painful Death

**Hey, this chapter is shorter than my last one but I can assure you that it is worth the read. You get to learn more about Ares and meet your new presenter and Gamemaker. There is also some information regarding the Games. Be sure to read the author's note at the end. This chapter is A Quick but Painful Death. The next chapter shall be Death of a MockingJay. Enjoy.**

* * *

"So you want me to act as the presenter _and_ Gamemaker?" Luxen groaned as he rubbed his temples. His feet placed on the glass, coffee table that took pride of place in his brother's office. Ares watched him from the other side, his eyes glaring at him as he swished the whisky around in the crystal glass.

"Don't refer to the roles using _those_ names, makes it seem like it's The Hunger Games-"

"That's what it is, is it not?" Luxen asked, holding his own whisky glass to his right eye, watching a small spider scramble up the smooth surface, it's legs working overtime to make it to safety, something that took him back to his childhood. "Just because you half the numbers does not change what it is, brother,"

"Yes...well I guess it is but-"

"But what Ares?" Luxen snapped, smacking the glass into his lap, crushing the spider. "You lied to us all, the only thing everyone asked for, as a _nation_ and you went against it, like the prick you are," Ares hummed in response, leaning back in his chair as he watched Zenobia walking around the rose garden, the only thing Ares had left from Snow. He did not keep them out of obsession but merely because Zenobia found them pretty.

"It's not like I have a choice in the matter-"

"You always have a choice, to stand up for what is right...well, that's what the Ares I knew taught me," Luxen growled, lifting the glass up to his lips, sticking his tongue out in an attempt to catch any stray liquor. At home, he would have just filled it right up, being the alcoholic he was, but Ares rationed him, not caring for his brother's drunk antics. However, Ares understood his little brother's reasons, the alcohol helped forget about his time as a shoulder. Taking over a nation was not easy and the casualties were great. Even a war loving man like Ares was effected.

Ares coped with the pain by bird watching. "Ew, ya gay!" Luxen would cheer, despite his own sexuality, before stumbling away and ultimately, walking into a wall. Ares kept at it, though. Something about the innocence and beauty of nature made every horror he had faced seem secondary.

"What could be worse than bringing those hellish Games back,"

"War, with the British," Ares sighed in reply, taking the last mouthful of his drink and placing the empty glass on the table by Luxen's feet. Luxen chuckled a bit at first, half expecting balloons and streamers to fall from the ceiling and Ares to shout that it was a joke. Sadly, his older brothers expression stayed the same, his green eyes flooded with a mixture of sadness.

"Shit," Luxen said under his breath, "and all because we don't take pleasure in killing kids?"

"And if the nation does not like it,"

"How do you make a nation that hates the Games cheer for them?" Ares replied to Luxen with a shrug, leaning over and placing his face in the palm of his hands. Luxen pulled his legs away from the table and sat cross-legged on the chair, stroking his blonde goatee. "I mean, you could tell the nation it's a show of understanding from England...so they understand what we have been through," there was a moment silence, Ares slowly raising his head from his hands but he quickly shook his head.

"No, that won't work-"

"You will get more people on your side than if you just said you were bringing the Games back for shits and giggles," Luxen said with a shrug, his blue blazer restricting how far he could lift his shoulders.

Ares hummed in response, his mind wandering as he looked back out of the window at the sun illuminating the glossy, white roses. "Does this mean you are agreeing to help me?" he asked, his green eyes drifting over to his lanky, blonde haired brother. Luxen sighed, leaning back in his armchair, his own blue eyes taking in every slight twitch of emotion on his brother's face, something he had done with people since he was a child. He would break down every single body movement, being able to relay most of their life story without talking to them that much. He clearly knew Ares' but it annoyed his big brother and he took pride in that.

"I guess I owe you after you accepted me for who I was and saved me from a death many of times,"

"Thank you," Ares said with a large smile on his face. "So how are we going to do this?"

A sly grin, like that of a snake closing in on its prey just this prey happened to be an idea that would place him above his brother for once. Despite his love for him, like all siblings, they had their rivalries. Ares was an overachiever, always rising to the top. Having a sexuality that was not shunned, leading the rebel army, overthrowing the government, becoming president and even marrying one of the most beautiful girls in Panem. Luxen didn't have to be straight to see her beauty. However, Luxen would never do anything to harm his brother. No, he just liked coming up with ideas Ares would never come up with on his own.

"You want these Games to go past as quickly as possible and be as fair as possible, right?" Ares gave a small nod, cocking his head to the side as he awaited more. "Well, how about you put a twenty-four-hour limit and give them all the same weapon. That way it has gone too fast for anyone to get angry about Plus, everyone gets a fair shot at victory,"

"People will still get angry-"

"People will get pissy no matter how you handle it, the least we can do is to make it as quick and as painless as we can...for the people of Panem,"

* * *

 **So basically, these games will only be twenty-four hours long. I will do a chapter for every hour of the day. If no tribute is a** victor **by that point, they will all be shot dead (but don't worry, we will have a victor). Every tribute is given the same weapon but I will tell you what that is later. Sponsors are allowed but they are from the British public. I think that covers everything you need to know for now. Onto the questions.**

 **What relation are Luxen and Ares? (1 point)**

 **Thoughts on Luxen? (1 point)**

 **Thoughts on the chapter? (1 point)**

 **That's all for now, had trouble coming up with questions this time haha. Until next time.**


	3. Death of a Mockingjay

**Right, I am super proud of this chapter and I personly think I did a good job with Peeta. I would like to say in advance, I am sorry. You shall understand when you start reading. I still have spots open, I am looking for more males as I only currently have two. Thank you, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Peeta made his way through the rusty, broken fence at the edge of District Twelve. He no longer had to duck through like Katniss used to many years ago, he simply walked through the large hole he, Katniss and Haymitch had created with a set of pliers. In his hand, he carried a small wicker basket filled with Katniss and Haymitch's favourite food and a small picnic blanket held tightly in his other hand.

He stopped once he saw his beloved, District Twelve just visible in the distance and smiled. He placed the blanket down, pulled a small bouquet of primroses from the basket and fixed his flat cap. "Hello dear, and Haymitch," he said cheerfully as he placed the bright, happy flowers in front of her, the dew that coated the grass being transferred to the white petals. "I know it has only been a week but I have a lot to tell you...some happy and some sad but you should know either way," Peeta sighed. He steered at the gravestone abstinently mindedly in front of him which he had placed the flowers on, almost like he was expecting a reply. Neither of them ever gave one.

Haymitch had passed away in his sleep twenty-three years ago. One day he was laughing and joking, a drink of vodka in his hand and the next, he was being covered by a sheet. Katniss was not so lucky. One of the things that attracted Peeta to her in the first place was her will to fight. She truly did have a fire inside of her and with that, she took down The Capitol. However, even the Mockingjay could not defeat cancer. She lived many years past what the Doctor had told her but it got her in end. Nineteen years she had been gone yet every Sunday, Peeta would make his way to her's and Haymitch's grave to keep the two company and inform them about current events. Even if they could not hear him, it made him feel better about their loss.

"I bought your favourites," he laughed, pulling free a pot dish full of lamb stew and dried plumbs. He then pulled out a pomegranate for dessert, one of Haymitch's favourite fruits and last he placed a flask full of hot chocolate on the picnic blanket. On Sundays, he made sure to eat a selection of Katniss' and Haymitch's favourite dishes along with the hot chocolate he loved so much. It also counted at something in honour of Katniss as in her later years she had grown to love the drink. The act made Peeta feel close to them once more after years of being alone.

"The children are doing well, Ryka is a personal bodyguard for the president and Amira's eldest, Suki, has had a child, making us great-grandparents...I don't know the little one's name yet but I am hoping they bring her to see me, it has been so long," Peeta said with sadness, thinking back to the last time he had seen his children. It was just after their mother's death and then they only stayed for a few hours. Peeta offered to put them and their families up for the night and cook them dinner but they both had jobs they needed to go in the morning. They both worked in the Capitol, Ryka as a security guard and Amira as a soldier. Their absence had never bothered Peeta before but after Katniss went, it became a crushing weight. He only got to see his grandchildren once a year if he was lucky. They just did not seem to care for him anymore.

Things got worse when Ares started a rebellion. While Peeta did not agree with Ares ways, his children did and decided to go off and fight alongside him. Their political beliefs pulled them further away from their father, leaving him alone in Twelve. "I also got a new dog, I called her Rue...I am hoping she helps keep me company, her love for life certainly brings a smile to my face," he had taken in the puppy earlier that week, a stray in what used to be the town centre of District Twelve. She was small with dark, curly hair and big chocolate brown eyes. She was bouncy and happy but still well behaved for a pup. She reminded Peeta of rue in looks and in spirit and he didn't even mind the extra work he put in to raise a puppy. It gave him something to do.

"But anyway, for the bad news," Peeta sighed, knowing he could not run from it with happy thoughts forever. He looked around the meadow where he and Katniss used to sit and watch their children play. It was also the place Katniss informed him that she and Gail used to spend there time, just talking about everything and anything. Peeta had never found out what happened to Gail. They lost contact after the second rebellion but he still wondered. There was a high chance he could still be alive. However, the meadow was so beautiful that it was hard to think of past comrades and friends. The sun was bright and warm and the air was full of bird song as they danced overhead, far too pretty for what today had brought.

"They are bringing the Games back...they assure us it's it only one more time but you know how these things go. And even more worryingly, they want me to come back to mentor, being the only living victor and all," he paused when he said this, his carefree smile vanishing from his blue eyes focused on Katniss' name that was engraved the stone, along with how she was beloved wife, mother and grandmother. "I wish you was here," he said with a lump in his throat, "you always knew what to do in this situations...you would have also been a better mentor, I only survived both Games because of you," he bit his lips when he felt the tears trying to spill over his bottom lid as he looked at the silent grave. It was times like this he wonders why he put himself through coming to Katniss' grave every week but the alternative felt like he was forgetting her, pretending like she didn't exist. The world might have forgotten her in fifty-eight years but Peeta never would.

He grumbled as he wiped the tears away from his eyes and pulled some bread he had baked that morning from the basket and violently tore some off and dipped it in the steaming lamb stew, scooping up some dried plum. He ate and drank his dinner in silence, thinking about the poor children he would be forced to watch die. He was not sure weather it was bad or worse that these children had no idea what The Hunger Games were or that the Games would only span twenty-four hours. He expected most of the children to refuse to kill, maybe even rebel. There would not be enough time for any of them to be pushed over the edge by infection, hunger or thirst but maybe the looming time frame would drive most people towards killing. Peeta knew one thing, no one like him would win this year. No one will be able to wait it out. The victor this year might be cruel, twisted or maybe just desperate to survive but they would be strong and ready to kill. He could not see anyone else winning such a Game.

After he was finished, he gathered up his belongings, left his scrap pieces of bread for the animals and bid his loved ones goodbye. He walked through the meadow and past the rusty, old electric fence once more and walked through the rubble that resembled the ghost of the Seam, the square and where his family bakery used to be. He stopped for a few moments and looked at the rubble, sprinkled with small saplings and grass. He closed his eyes and thought back to when it was a tall, looming building with black smoke billowing out of the chimney, the heat from the ovens and the smell of fresh bread filling the air and making the mouths of Twelves citizens water. Sometimes that mouth watering smell was replaced with the stench of the pigs. "Those disgusting animals!" he mother would growl as she handed him and his brother Watson and Falco, shovels and told them to clean it up. His brothers, being older, would tease him about throwing him in their waste only to be tripped head first into it by one of the large pigs. Their mother would always be watching, ready to beat them for their trouble making. Peeta loved the pigs and he loved his family.

Although his mother hated the animals and gained a name for herself about being the witch of Twelve but she was still his mother and she did have her kind moments. Peeta's father once went to the market and bought a small piglet for dinner, not being able to afford any other meat. He left Peeta and his brother's to play with the piglet but when he came back with an axe, the siblings cried out for him to let her live. Despite their argument, their father took the piglet and got ready to kill it when he was hit over the head with a rolling pin. "Let her grow, she can have many piglets and then we will have more meat that whatever is on that scrawny thing," she snapped, scooping up the small animal and handing it back to her sons with a smile on her face. Peeta made sure to remember these moments when she punished him or people in the District's muttered under their breath how cruel she was. She was outspoken, arrogant, stubborn, loud and strict but she was still his mother. They all had their faults but they were his family. They were still grandparents and uncles his children never met and parents and brothers he would never be able to spend time with or say he loved again. He would play his first Games a thousand times and take a hundred beatings from his mother if it meant he got to spend a few moments with them all. Hug them, tell them how much they meant to him and how much he missed and loved them. You don't get second chances like that. They didn't even get a real burial like Katniss and Haymitch, they were still under the rubble, looking on at their son and brother who tried every day to gather up the courage to dig them out and give them the funeral they deserved. Sadly, like every other day, he did not have it in him.

He tore his eyes away from the scene and continued to walk towards the victor's village, the only place untouched by the fire bombs. It used to look amazing when Peeta was younger but as he got older, he was only able to tend to his own garden and even that looked terrible, currently. Rue kept digging it up.

As he walked up to his door, he looked around at the upturned flowers and multiple items torn to pieces all over the garden. Peeta looked up at the open, green door, his blue eyes widening in fear. "Rue!" he screamed as he raced through the door, throwing the basket and blanket on the floor and racing through the house, looking for the little puppy.

He found her when he came to the kitchen, the black, curly furred dog tearing apart a brown, leather shoe. Rue stopped when she saw him, cocking her head to the side, her tongue dangling out. "Where did you get that-"

"Ah, that's mine-" the voice did not have time to finish as Peeta quickly turned on his heel, pulling a knife free from his pocket and throwing it at the intruder. The blonde haired man looked at the knife that flew through the air and pinned the sleeve of his raised, left hand to the door frame. "Good shot Peeta-"

"Who are you?" Peeta demanded, pulling another knife out of his pocket. The blue eyed male pulled the knife free from his sleeve, kneeled to the floor with his hands in the air and scooted it back to the old man.

"I am Luxen Valor, think of me as your escort to The Capitol," he said raising an eyebrow as he kept a careful watch on the knife in the man's hands. He was much taller than Peeta, about the same height as Cato but was far more lanky with long, elegant neck and a slightly crooked neck. His fitted, shirt and blazer along with his skinny pants seem to add to his height.

"You sure don't sound like you are from The Capitol, you are from the west,"

"Well, yes I am, I was born and raised in District One but I live in The Capitol with my brother, President Valor. Now, come on, we are already running late and I would rather it was not my head on the chopping block,"

"What about my stuff-"

"Already packed,"

"Can I take my dog?"

"Sure, don't see why no...just tell her to leave my shoes alone, right little guard dog you have there," Luxen laughed, walking past Peeta and picking up his shoe.

"Forgive me, a war and The Hunger Games will do that to you," Peeta scowled as he bent down to pick Rue up and passed her over to an amused Luxen.

"Trust me, I understand...wait until you see my dog," he chuckled, Rue licking his cheek with excitement as he threw a big bag towards Peeta and exited the house. However, before leaving, Peeta ran into the living room to pick up one more thing, a small scrap book with everyone he cares about inside and placed it deep in his bag. Sometimes it was best to not forget the past and he was going to need all the help he could get.


	4. Wiehed (District One) Reaping

**Hello, this is our first reaping we are going to Wiehed, which is Englands equivalent to District One. Reaping chapters will show you the tribute on the day they are reaped and when they are being transported to Panem. They don't have Peacekeepers in England, they have soldiers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I do still have some more spaces. Down below you shall find a list of the English Districts and their Panem equivalents. Enjoy.**

 **Dark Pink: (Sebgha, Seh-ba) District 7**

 **Light Pink: (Wiehed, Wee-het) District 1**

 **Dark Blue: (Tnax, T-narsh) District 12**

 **Light Blue: (Ghaxra, Arr-sha) District 10**

 **Turquoise: (Tnejn, Nane) District 2**

 **Green: (Tmienja, T-mean-e-a) District 8**

 **Purple: (Disgha, Dis-ha) District 9**

 **Yellow: (Erbgha, Ear-Bough) District 4**

 **Yellow/Orange: (Hdax, H-darsh) District 11**

 **Light Orange: (Hamsa, Ham-sa) District 5**

 **Dark Orange: (Sitta, Sit-a) District 6**

 **Red: (Tlieta, Clee-ta) District 3**

* * *

 **Wiehed (District One), Day of the Reaping.**

Margaret Woodby sat on the stone, perimeter wall that separated her house from the sprawling land around her. A few miles away, the sound of the diamond mines could be heard echoing through the land, day and night. However, over the years, Margaret had become used the constant low rumble. So much so that she was now able to continue with her work without becoming too agitated.

She lived in a small, three bedroomed house nestled in a valley. It was built by her family in a remote part of the District where they could live peacefully. In England, you were free to set up your home anywhere as long as it was in the District. Most people opted to stay in the towns, being close to people and goods. There were four towns in Wiehed, Isfar, Ahmar, Ahdar and Kannella, each town specialising in a different craft in the Luxury industry. Isfar was the town closest to where Margaret and her siblings lived and it specialised in the mining of precious stones. However, Margaret was born into the town of Kannella, where jewellery was made. Although she moved away when she was very young, her mother and father taught her the trade. She didn't have diamonds or gold to work with but she still managed to scrape a living.

The hills around her were full of clay so every morning, she and her siblings would make the journey to dig large clumps of it out and mould it between her fingers to make small, clay balls. Once they were solid, she would paint them with the juice from berries, giving them a unique, vibrant colour. They were not as precious as most of the jewellery made in Wiehed but they proved and proved to be popular with children who would save up their pocket money for months to buy a one with multicoloured beads that spelt out her name. It brought a little extra into the family, along with the money her siblings Malachi, Rose, Peter and Nicholas earned from the mines, and she loved bringing the smile to a child's face.

By the foot of the wall, her youngest siblings, Caleb, Agnes, Veronica and Gideon, sat quietly as they moulded the clay into beads like their eldest sister. Gideon, only three years old, stuck out his tongue in concentration as he squashed Veronica's beads as quick as she could make them. "Maggie!" Veronica whined, throwing her lump of clay at the giggling Gideon, her lips forming a tight pout. Margaret opened her mouth to speak when a dark haired, middle aged woman leant into view, a large smile on her face.

"Which ones are yours?" she asked cheerfully, a small wicker basket balanced on her shoulder and she placed her forearms on the wall.

"Oh just the smallest, little Gideon," she lied, "the others are my brother's children," the children looked away and focused on their work while the woman smiled at them. Margaret's body shook as the woman silently look at them, ingraining each one in her memory. She kept her green eyes trained on the woman, brown eyes moving away from the children and focusing on the house instead. She looked at the three faces that appeared at the window, the small faces of Lucy, Elizabeth and Jane. When the young girls saw the woman smiling at them, they ducked out of sight. "They are my cousins, not the bravest of people," Margaret laughed nervously. The short woman just hummed in response.

"And you all live in there?"

"Yes,"

"Can I see-"

"No!" Margaret snapped, causing the woman to jump and drop her basket to the floor. The basket tumbled, the blanket on top becoming untucked and a large clump of clay falling out. Only then did the girl realise what she had done. She lowered herself from the wall, folded up the blanket that had been covering her legs and stomach and waddled over to the basket. She held her back as she tried to bend down to pick up the mess she had caused but the woman quickly interjected, gently pushing her back and continued to pick it up herself.

Margaret rubbed her enlarged stomach as she watched with guilty eyes. She could feel her daughter doing summer salts in protest to her attempt to help. "I am sorry, it's just, my parents say I am not allowed to let strangers past the wall," she said sullenly. The woman didn't answer but when she went to go repeat herself, the woman picked up her basket of clay and turned to smile at her once more.

"It is okay, hun, I was the same when I was pregnant...all worth it when you get to hold the little one in your arms, right?" Margaret gave a nod and a chuckle in reply as the woman wished her luck and started her walk back to her home. The truth was, Margaret would not know. She had never held her own child in her arms before and she didn't know the pain of childbirth or the joys of being a mother. Sure, Gideon and Agnes were more like her children than siblings but she was willing to bet it was not the same and carrying a child for nine months and watching them grow. The woman seemed kind and she wanted to confide in her but she never would be able to.

With her mother and father gone, arrested for breaking the three child limit, Margaret was alone in this pregnancy. Her siblings tried to help but there was only so much children could do in her situation. She went seeking help from the child's father, a young merchant, even if all she received was emotional support. She wasn't sure what she expected but she did not expect Nathaniel's reaction. He smiled and sat her down, took a deep breath and told the tall girl that although he was happy for her, knowing she would be a great mother, he was not ready to be a father and for that reason, never wanted to see her again.

Margaret put on a brave face at first and in front of her siblings and kept it until she had blown out the candles and settled into bed. There, in the dark among her sisters, she tossed and turned, tears silently rolling down her face as she clutched her stomach in grief. She trusted Nathaniel more than anyone outside of her family. She told him the secret about her siblings and how her parents were executed for having more than three children. He was her best friend in the world and now he was gone, all because she was careless enough to get pregnant. She told herself it was her fault, that if she had just been more careful, he would have never ran away. In fact, for the first three months, she resented the child's existence but when she felt the first stirring of life in her stomach, she knew she didn't have it in her heart to hate her little girl. She was not sure what gender it was but she had a feeling it was a little girl. All the old wives tales pointed to it and Margaret just had a feeling, mother's intuition.

However, as if being a single mother was not hard enough, she was constantly on guard for people snooping around and Soldiers who might be lurking, waiting to take her siblings away and put them in the District orphanage. So when she spotted the group of Soldiers marching up the alley, she springs into action, nine months pregnant or not.

"Get inside and hide," she said to her group of siblings who did not even attempt to protest, not after what happened to their mother and father. Once the children were inside the house, she stood up and walked over to the army of Soldiers, her hands in the air, her swollen ankles and not able to go any faster due to the pain in her lower back. The front two Soldiers dropped to the floor and aimed the guns, Margaret coming to a holt. She stood there, frozen as she prayed her siblings would find hiding places, weather it be in wardrobes or under the floorboards.

A tall, stocky Soldiers stepped forwards and took off his helmet, revealing the battered face of a greying, middle-aged man. "Margaret Hazel Woodby?" he asked, holding his head high. The strawberry blonde gave a small nod as she watched the man's blue eyes drift down to her stomach, his eyes shining with sadness. He then noticed her looking and cleared his throat. "Miss Woodby, I am pleased to announce that you have been selected to take part in The Hunger Games," The final three words confused the pale girl as she searched in her memory for such a Games.

"What are they-"

"No time to explain I am afraid ma'am, you should be back in under a month...is there anyone you wish to say goodbye to?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. Margaret thought back to her frightened siblings who were waited for her return. If she was gone for a month, she wanted to say goodbye. However, the longer she kept them here, the more chance there would be of one of the younger siblings slipping up, maybe poking their head out of the window. She also did not want to put them in danger so she shook her head and allowed them to lead her away.

She planned to run away when their backs were turned. However, not long after she accepted the invitation, they handcuffed her and forcefully lead her through the town. "What about my child?...how long will these games be?" she asked as they marched her through, citizens gasping, asking if they were really going to send her as she was loaded onto the large, black steam train. Her questions seemed to fluster the man as beads of sweat rolled down his face.

"Erm, well the Game will only last twenty-four hours, it will be over very quickly...I can promise that your daughter will be safe...I don't know anything else," he choked, tears forming in his eyes. The truth was, he knew all about The Hunger Games but how do you tell a heavily pregnant girl that she was going into a game where the only rule was to kill or be killed and it was likely both her and her child would never make it back to Wiehed. He just didn't have the heart. However, when the train pulled away, he regretted not telling the young girl what she was in for.

* * *

 **Erbgha, first day of travel**

By the time Margaret's train had come to a holt, she had been sat down for hours and stopped five times, making her legs numb and shaky. An attendant on the train helped her down to the platform and transferred her to company to two soldiers, dressed in bright red outfits. Around her was boats of all sizes stood still at crumbling, wooden docking stations as men dressed in thick woolen jumpers with a waterproof coat either carried fish from below deck or watched with infatuation as Margaret and a few other children walked away from the large steam train and towards the cargo ship.

"Where are we?" a averaged height, muscular males with dark brown eyes and brown hair asked as he walked beside Margaret. The soldiers ignored the young male, much to his frustration. "Well, I believe we are at-"

"Welcome to Erbgha!" a beautiful brown haired girl cheered, clapping her hands together with excitement. The male visibly deflated, his back arching and a small point playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I knew that, lanky-"

"It's Ellie, Ellie Caver, and you are?" she asked the male and the group of people he was stood with.

"Why should we tell you?" a male seethed, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. However, his height did that for him.

"Because you are in my home District, that's why," Ellie laughed, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. The tall male went to speak again when a young girl jumped in front of him, a large smile on her face.

"Hi, I am Syra Anderson from Tnax!" the dark skinned girl cheered, her brown eyes full of excitement. A sly grin on her face when Ellie clapped for her enthusiasm.

"You don't just start telling people your name-" the male muttered but was quickly interrupted by Margret.

"I am Margaret Hazel Woodby from Wiehed-"

"I am Halien Zalix of Sebgha, pleased to meet you-"

"Fine!" the male screamed, uncrossing his arms and stomping his foot into the dirt. "I am Saxon Jones, it isn't very nice to meet you," he growled, like a child who had just been forced to admit he was wrong. _I bet you're fun at parties,_ Margret thought as the soldiers behind them pushed them forward towards the cargo ship.

Once they were boarded, a few soldiers who were dressed in sailor's clothes, something Ellie had informed her visitors was a common thing there, escorted them to a large, green, container. Painted on the corrugated metal was a large circle with a small circle in the middle that held a solid bird silhouette with it's wings outspread. Above that, in the larger circle was the word 'Capitol'. However, none of the children were given much time to gawk at the artwork as they were quickly ushered into the large, dimly lit container.

The inside looked more like an air raid shelter with the part closest to the door holding six sets of bunk beds, three either side. Near the end were two, inbuilt benches on either side of the wall. At the other end of the room was a small, projected TV that had the same symbol that was spray painted on the side spining around. Inside, six other children had already started to claim their bunks, none of them having much when it came to stuff. In fact, everyone had some sort of backpack so Margaret just assumed they had collected them when they went to say goodbye.

Once they were safely in, the soldiers closed the doors, casting them in darkness for a few seconds until a dim, orange light flickered to life above them. At the same time, the projected screen sparked to life the seal fading into the face of a good looking, blonde haired man. He smiled a charming smile as the children slowly walked towards the screen. Some stayed on their bed while others jumped off.

"Hello tributes, first off congratulations on being chosen to partake in this years Hunger Games!" the young man cheered, throwing his hands up to the side as streamers filled the screen from either side of him. Margaret smiled as she looked over to Ellie who was trying not to laugh at the stupidity of the situation. Hailen looked confused, Syra looked uninterested and Bexter just looked angry. "I am Luxen Valor, this year's host, and a good looking one at that," he gave a wink, a sparkle appearing in the corner of his right eye. "Now, you most likely want me to tell you why you are here, right?"

"Would be nice," Saxon sighed, placing his bag down and sitting on the bottom bunk closest to the door. The girl above him looked down and frowned.

"Well I can't tell you the specifics at the moment but let me assure you, the victor will have everything they desire and more, now isn't that worth fighting for? Good luck my tributes and I look forward to checking in with you tomorrow," and with that, the blonde male vanished, once again being replaced with the strange seal.

"Is that it?" Saxon laughed, "Is that honestly it?" he looked around the room but everyone else avoided his gaze. "I deserve to know more!" he roared throwing his bag against the metal wall in frustration.

"And we don't?" Syra grumbled, wincing at the sound.

"Yeah dude, we are in the same boat-"

"Litteryly," Ellie added to Halien, her eyes glazed over, clearly as frustrated as all of them.

Saxon looked around for support but no one seemed to be giving it so with a huff, he slammed the back of his head into his pillow, looking up at the bottom of the top bunk. "Fine, but I am taking this bunk-"

"You do that," Syra sighed, climbing the set of ladders next to Margaret and collapsing on the top bunk. Margaret took the one underneath, holding her stomach so she could feel her daughter kick, reminding her she was not alone. If what the soldier back home said was true, she would be back in no time. And at least the people she had to spend it with where nice. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	5. Tnejn (District Two) Reaping

**Hey, welcome back. Today I have Saxon Jones from Tnejn (District 2). I also have a few announcements. First off, the person who reserved was unable to submit so the District Nine spot is open. Regarding reservations, I am giving everyone who has reserved a spot until the 27th of June. I know people are busy and I think that is fair. If you need more time, let me know.**

 **Also, about the Districts in England, I have started putting Tnejn (District 2) because I understand it might be confusing plus to the people in Panem, they shall be referred as Districts 1-12 to stop confusion.**

 **Anyway, on with the chapter. Below is the sponsor system and FYI, I had to do a good bit of research into child labour in brick mills. It was a dark time.**

* * *

 **Tnejn (District Two), Brick Mill, Day of the Reaping**

Saxon kept his eyes closed as he heard the quickened footsteps of his little brother, Benor, pad along the floor of the kiln room, giggling as he did so. The room was silent by the time he reached ten and uncovered his dark, chocolate brown eyes. The brick factory he worked in allowed little sunlight, the only source being the small, dirt-covered windows that illuminate the walkway above. The building was small, only allowing about four people in at a time and the air was filled with the pungent smell of burning coal. Most of the time when the fire was burning, the large, wooden doors would be propped open, filling the stations with light and allowing fresh air to fill the workers lungs rather than the suffocating black smoke. The brick kiln was a death trap. They would employ young men as they were big enough to crawl into the mouth of the kiln and lay the bricks out perfectly. However, within ten years, most of the boys died of lung cancer or at least had series lung conditions. This was the future Saxon and his younger brother was facing, every time they breathed in the thick, black smoke, they came closer to death. Sadly, it was paid work and no work for children their age in Tnejn (District 2) was safe. They were not as lucky as other Districts in England. The only ones that were worse for child labour were Disgha (District Nine), where children worked in flour mills, Tnax (District 12), where children worked in mines and Tmienja (District 8), where children made clothes with heavy machines. All resulted in the death of children but all paid well. At least Saxon and Benor got to go outside and if they fell asleep, wouldn't die a horrible, painful death by the hands of a machine.

However, the possibility of painful death always looming over his head meant that when he got days like this, where they loaded up the kiln rather that kept the fire stock, he could appreciate them.

"Ready or not here I come-" Saxon's eye fell on a small shadow that was cast on the wall behind the kiln. "I found you Benor," Saxon sighed, walking over to the shadow.

"No, you didn't-"

"Dude, I can see your shadow," Benor poked his head out from behind the large, stone kiln and frowned.

"You are not fun at this Game, Saxon-"

"And neither are you, let's play something else," Benor was not really Saxon's brother, the brick factory only employed orphans, no one to complain and start an uprising if they died. The two boys had been put together two years ago when Saxons old mentor died of a respiratory infection. He was only nineteen, a year older than Saxon. At first, he hated Benor, his happy go lucky demeanour out of place in such a deadly work environment. However, he quickly warmed to the sweet, well-meaning boy and started to see him like a little brother. He tried everything to get the boy away from the fate of his mentor but he was never moved to a less dangerous job, like moulding the bricks. He even moved into the same room as Saxon due to his persistent nightmares about his families death in the quarry.

Every morning, around three, Saxon would awake first, making sure he and Benor got the first bath of all the children. He would then wake up Benor for a bath. He himself would only wash his hands, not having time for both of them to have a wash. Once the brick dust and coal were washed from their cut and battered hands, they would be seated at the table where they would be handed one, single, warm potato, sometimes in the summer, it was cold. It was the only food they would have until eleven that night, all they had to get them through the day. At the end of the work day, around ten at night, Saxon would carry seven year old Benor back to the orphanage in his arms, playing a game of counting how many brick trucks went past to stop him falling asleep before his final meal of the day, three rounds of stale bread, just to settle his stomach for the night. They received their ration booklets from the government but the orphanage took them, spending them on the owners and only spending a small amount on the children who owned them. Every year, on their birthday, the children would receive one breast of chicken. It was a small amount and most of the time the children got beckoned into sharing but it was worth the small wait. Worth surviving another a year for.

"What game are we going to play?" Benor asked the older, dark haired boy, his green eyes heavy.

"Count the bricks," Saxon laughed, ducking through the small hole in the kiln, carrying four, wet bricks in his hand. Once he was inside, the orange bricks lit by flickering candlelight, he stacked the bricks on top of some others and turned around to see an angered Benor looking back at him.

"There are so many-"

"Well I can't count them, you are best counter in the country," Saxon smiled at the smile boy, his toothy grin.

"I am getting good...aren't I?"

"Sure are, better get counting then bud," Benor didn't hesitate, turning to the walls of bricks around him and started to count while Saxon leant against a wall, giving the boy a helping hand when he got stuck and noting it down. The boy could only count up to ten so he counted in sets of ten. He was up to his seventh set when a group of wardens and requested Saxon's presence in the manager's office. Not wanting a whipping, Saxon complied.

He had been called up to the manager's office a few times, when he first joined, when his old mentor died and when Benor joined him. However, he knew straight away that this was different. When he had climbed the metal stairs to the office, he could see a crowd of soldiers stood to attention in the warmly lit room. They turned in unison to look at him, they dark eye seemingly glaring into his soul. Saxon turned to walk away but the wardens pushed him on. One of the soldiers inside the office opened the door for him as he was forced into the room, stumbling in front of the manager's desk.

"Saxon Jones?" the chubby man behind the desk asked, shoving a flour covered cake into his mouth with such force, Saxon was shocked he wasn't suffocating. The sut covered boy gave a nod, his tattered, smelly clothes repelling most of the soldiers from being near him. "Awesome, you will be going with these men," the manager said through a mouthful of food, gesturing to the men. Saxon glanced over and frowned.

"What about Benor, sir-"

"Who?"

"Benor Fields, the boy I work with, what will happen to him?" the manager seemed to ponder this for a moment before giving a quick shrug.

"I don't know boy, depends if you come back or not-"

"Come back from where?" the boy bellowed, his short temper getting the best of him in the agitated situation.

"Stop asking questions boy and do as you are told!" the manager screamed, slamming his fist into the table. The room fell silent after that, tears brewing in Saxon's eyes as he looked at the open door a little to his left. "Listen, I am sorry, I don't like losing one of my workers either-" Saxon darted out of the door too fast for anyone to catch him. He almost leapt down the staircase and ran back towards the kiln to find Benor, refusing to allow them to take him. His mind was racing with what it could be. Maybe it was jail, but Saxon had not done anything wrong. Maybe it was because of his age, being eighteen they might have been transferring him to the workhouse to make way for new blood.

He was metres away when he made it to the kiln, screaming out for Benor. The blonde haired boy popped his head out of the building, his eyes widening.

"Saxon?" he cried, clearly frightened by the stream of soldiers that were running after him. Saxon could hear them closing in on him but whenever he tried to run faster, his legs would scream out in let out a squeal as one soldier grabbed Saxon from behind, stabbing a syringe into his neck and releasing the clear liquid into the bloodstream. Saxon still continued to kick and fight but with every second, his limbs became heavier and the world became darker.

* * *

 **Atlantic Ocean, Day Two of Trip to Panem.**

Saxon had no reason to trust the people around him. He only ever trusted Benor and he had been torn away. These people were nothing to him, just loud children of all ages he was forced to go to this magical place with. All he knew is that it was some sort of Games, the victor receiving whatever they wished. The first thing that popped into Saxon's head was the promise of freedom for him and Benor. A chance to be free of the deathly kiln room and live their life however they wanted. However, when his manager said it depended on if he came back or not, he was assuming it wasn't a simple game like the football the workers used to play at Christmas when they got the day off. This was going to mean some of the children never came home. Also, the way the man with the American accent had called them tributes made them sound more like a sacrifice than contestants. Saxon knew one thing, if it was a game of solidarity, he was going to win. He had already turned most of the children against him due to his quick fuse and stress. It happened a lot but being so close to all of them made him sick.

The silent children started to scream with excitement when the roof above them opened revealing the blue sky above. At the same time, the screen flickered back to the American man who was covered in glitter this time.

"Sunlight is important for growing children," he grinned, " so, every day for an hour, you will be given you a daily dose of sunlight along with three meals a day!" at the moment, a large crate was dropped into the room, the smell of cooked egg. The American man thanked the tributes and flashed off the screen, leaving them to their breakfast.

"Chicken omelettes!" Ellie screaming with joy, taking a tub at a time and throwing them to each person in the room. She threw one to Saxon, along with a fork, the warm, plastic tub landing on his lap. He was hesitant at first until he saw Margaret tucking into hers and opened the lid. The steam hit him along with the mouth watering smell of the large omelette. He pulled free a small piece of chicken from the fluffy, yellow egg it was encased in and popped it in his mouth. His eyes widened at the taste as he took his fork and stabbed it into the egg.

Within a few minutes, Saxon had eaten over half of it, earning some strange looks from the other tributes. The truth was, Saxon wasn't sure he had ever seen so much food and that along with the underlying fear that someone would take it from him, he couldn't shovel it down his mouth any faster. However, his stomach did not agree with it.

At first, Saxon thought he was just having indigestion but when he started to heave, he knew what was coming. A few seconds later, his stomach contents forced it's way through his body and splattered on the floor. Syra and a few other tributes pulled a face while Margaret looked liked she was about to do that same.

"You need to eat less, your body is not that used to so much food," Halien said, looking at the food. "Also, take it slow next time," and with that, the door of the container opened, cleaners rushing in to wipe up his mess.

* * *

 **Right, sponsor system!**

 **Sponsors work a bit different for this story. Each tribute will be given a bag along with their weapon. That bag is packed by their Panem District counterpart. For example, someone from Weihed will be sponsored by District One. What is in that bag depends on YOU! You will be able to earn sponsor points throughout the story. Here is how.**

 **-Answer the Questions at the end of each chapter (various points)**

 **-Review (1/2 a point). I don't want to seem like I am asking for reviews, hence why it is so small but it acts as my little thank you to the people who review my story.**

 **-How rich the Panem District is (so from 4 points to 1 point).**

 **-Alliance (Get a point for how many tributes your character allies with, however, it does put them in more danger).**

 **-You start off with three points for submitting a character.**

 **This is my first story and sponsor system so if there is anything you think I should change, please let me know. I think it is sound, though. For what you can get, I shall reveal that later on but it will be things like matches, water, food, rope.**

 **Oh, your tributes also get sent one sponsor gift from home, their token so if you did not include one, be sure to send me that and I will add it to their pack.**

 **Questions:**

 **What were the names of Margaret's siblings? (3 points)**

 **What was the name of the father of Margaret's baby? (2 points)**

 **Thoughts on Margaret? (1 point)**

 **Favourite part of Margaret's chapter? (1 point)**

 **Thoughts on the chapter? (1 point)**

 **Thoughts on how England works? (1 point)**

 **What food did Saxon get every day? (2 points)**

 **What was Saxon at risk from getting, working in the brick kiln? (2 points)**

 **What happened to Saxon's parents? (3 points)**

 **Thoughts on Saxon? (1 point)**

 **Favourite part of Saxon's chapter (1 point)**

 **Thoughts on this chapter? (1 point)**


	6. Fly Away!

**Taking a break from the tributes while I wait for the District 3 tribute. Don't feel rushed, though. You have until the 27th and these chapters are fun. Just a slight warning, the first part of the chapter is very dark but it gives a lot of Ares and Luxen's backstory plus it has some hits at the story line. Enjoy this chapter, Fly Away.**

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

* * *

 **District One, Panem Six Years Ago**

The sun spilled across the sky, blanketing District One in an orange glow, the small buildings casting long shadows across the floor. The soft breeze carried the smell of burning flesh and suffocating smoke. The dying screams of people caught in the fire echoed through the air from all ends of the District and bounced around Ares skull and tore at his emotions. Every pleading face at the shattered windows, holding their hand out to the small boy, the orange flames licking their skin and peeling their skin caused one more emotional scar. The boy tried to look away as he raced past but he was unable to tear his eyes away screaming woman as she was engulfed by the flames.

"Keep up Ares," his mother whimpered, trying to keep it together for the rest of her family. Their father, was not as strong, allowing the tears to fall as he carried his youngest son, Luxen in his hands. His large hand lay over the young boy's blue eyes, not allowing the six-year-old to see the war around him.

The family had narrowly escaped the fire that destroyed their house, they did not even have time to pick up the family dog or warm clothing before they were forced into the bitter morning air. They raced through the back streets of the District along with other terrified citizens as they aimed for the safety of the forest. It was the only place the attackers did not seem to be. It was also harder to find anyone.

Ares started to fall behind as he watched a middle-aged soldier pull a young girl from a burning house, kicking and screaming. A distraught woman, who he assumed was her mother, ran out of the house after her as the man lifted the young girl's dress. He stopped when he saw the move and shouted something towards three masked men who grabbed the mother and threw her back into the flames. Ares looked on as they cheered on the death of the burning woman, kicking the young girl repeatedly. Ares stood frozen in fear until his mother lifted him up and swung and placed him in the direction of his family. "Run Ares," she screamed as she pushed the young boy forward by the small of his back and turned to look back at the small girl. She was now crying for her mother, who had succumbed to the flames, as the men started to crowd her.

It did not take long for Ares to catch up with his tall, stocky father who now held a crying and shivering Luxen, his head against his chest, the boy's tears soaking into his grey vest top. He looked at Ares through teary eyes as his son started running beside him, his hands covering his ears as they passed more burning houses. He looked away from his son and behind him, catching his breath when he noticed the absence of his wife. "Ares, where is your mother?" he screamed but his son ignored him, only then did he realize why he was covering his ears. The screams of help from his mother.

He reached out his right arm and pulled Ares back, throwing him to the ground. Ares looked up at his panicked father as he placed Luxen on the floor and told him to keep his eyes covered no matter what. He then turned to his oldest son, tears streaming from his eyes. "Ares, take your brother and run to the woods, as fast as you can...don't stop for anyone, we will meet you there...understand?" he snapped, clearly terrified at the prospect of leaving his sons behind. "I love you two, always know that you always have a choice to stand up for what is right," he choked, helping Ares to his feet. The blonde haired boy grabbed Luxen's right hand, his little brother keeping his eyes tightly shut. He walked a few feet before turning around to look at his father, "Run!" he screamed. Ares gave a quick nod and took off, dragging Luxen behind him.

For the first time, Ares ignored the screams and pleas of his people and focused on the survival of him and his little brother. His green eyes staying focused on the forest that with each step came closer and closer. He wanted to look behind him but knew it would put not just his life but Luxen's life at risk.

The brothers got about twenty metres away when something exploded behind them. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. First was the sound of an explosion that seemed to explode inside Ares' ears. Then was the shock wave hit. It tore through the District, destroying houses, ripping up the ground, overturning it and threw Ares and Luxen into the air.

Ares was not sure when it happened but as he was tumbled through the air, the feel of his body tearing, he lost his grip on Luxen, his brother missing in the cloud of dust that obscured his view. His body twisted and turned in the air until he impacted with the ground, his collarbone shattering as well as his right leg. He seemingly bounced along the floor, tearing skin from his face and torso. When he came to a holt, he used the last of his momentum to roll himself onto his back.

Blood trickled from his ringing ears while his broken ribs restricted his breathing yet he didn't scream, he just looked at the sky in silence, his left eye too swollen to open. In that moment, he was not Ares Valor, the boy who got both of his parents and most likely his little brother killed. He was just a broken, bloodied boy who lay in the center of a Mockingjay graffiti, taking in how fragile life was.

After a few moments, he noticed something flying against the fire colored sky, hovering through the breeze. It's dirty, white underbelly and outstretched blue wings catching the light perfectly. "Go, it's not safe here," Ares said weakly, holding out his right arm towards the bird. "You have wings, you can fly away," this time it was more frantic, a plea towards the animal. A plea to protect itself from the bloody and cruel world below. "Fly!"

* * *

 **The Capitol, Panem**

Ares woke up screaming, thrashing his hands. The sound that flooded through his ears was a welcome relief but he still clawed at his body in an attempt to wipe away the blood that once coated his body. His screams got worse when he mistook his sweat for blood, causing him to fall off the bed and hit his elbow on the bedside table, knocking a glass of water onto his head.

"Ares!" Zenobia screamed, kicking the covers offer her body and leaping across the bed towards the frightened man. She went to hug him but the man swatted her away and carried on rocking back and forth for a little while longer. When he started to calm down, he looked up at the blonde girl who looked at him with sadness. She gave a soft smile and offered out her hand but instead of taking it in his, he lay his head against it and started to sob.

* * *

Ares stood in front of the full body mirror straightening out his bow tie, Zenobia in the background dressing in a long, white dress with her curly blonde hair in a bun. She had recently put on a lot more weight and despite the fact he could see no difference, she could no longer fit in her tight dresses so while she waited for a new shipment from Eight, she had resorted to baggy clothing. She was even being forced to take a trip to District Eight for a wedding dress resize. Ares was not sure about allowing her to go by herself but she assured him that it was nothing more than a dress fitting.

"Zenobia," Ares said, slightly squeakier than he had intended. The blue-eyed girl looked over to him, the back of her dress only half zipped up. Ares took a deep sigh, his eyes drifting over to the black and white photo of his parents, all he had left of the two. "I am moving the date of our wedding forward,"

Zenobia smiled, a small blush forming on her cheeks as she looked at the nervous man, butterflies racing around her stomach. "Okay, but why?" she laughed, zipping up the rest of her dress as she watched Ares fumble over his words.

"Well, I thought we could move it to the same day as The Games-"

"You want our wedding day to be the same day that eleven innocent kids die?" she growled.

"Well it would certainly take the attention away from them-"

"And here I was thinking it was because you loved me,"

"I do-"

"Nah, I am pretty sure it is just a stunt to hide that fact a bunch of children are going to die-"

"Oh yes, I planned this three years in advance, took you from District Nine just to cover up my terrible mistake,"

"Wouldn't surprise me-"

"Ares, you ass-shat!" Luxen screamed, almost kicking down the door and intruding on the pair's argument. The two looked at the blonde, lanky male who held a script in his hand.

"Come in Luxen-"

"Yeah, yeah, what is this?" Luxen asked, waving the script in the air but Ares just gave a shrug. "Sunlight is important for growing children, I sound like a lunatic...not to mention the glitter and that fake smile!" he threw the script on the floor, sat down in the chair and leaned his head against the wall. The pair looked at him, their argument seeming pathetic as they watched Luxen bash his head repeatedly against the wall.

"I will leave you two alone to...whatever this is about," Zenobia sighed, taking a faux, white fur coat and walking out the door.

"Bye Zenaboobie!" Luxen called, his voice dull and droning.

"See ya Luxstar!" she shouted back, shutting the door behind her.

Ares scowled, his thick eyebrows knotting. "You have nicknames for each other?"

Luxen smiled thinly. "She is my future sister and I have nicknames for all my siblings, Airy-bery,". Luxen laughed at his brother blushing face. "Honestly, you should stop arguing, people like us hardly ever find someone who cares that much, she is something special,"

"I am trying to protect her-"

"Then stop thinking like a leader for a few seconds and think like her future husband, it might do you some good," he sighed, standing up and reaching for the door. "Oh, and could you sort these scripts out for me so I sound like me and not one of those fake smile Capitolites? Many thanks," and with that, Luxen vanished out the door, the three paged script floating towards the floor.

The thing was, Ares was not sure he wanted to marry Zenobia and start a family. He loved her, more than anything, but the last time he had a family, he got them killed. Luxen also had many close calls under his leadership. He couldn't stand to do the same to Zenobia. He just wished they could both see that the wedding, the script and even the Games was to keep them both safe.


	7. Valor Number 3

**This is just a small chapter about Zenobia. I have the D3 male now but I already had this chapter written. It gives her backstory and there is a big reveal at the end. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Three Years Ago…..**

Seventeen year old Zenobia crossed her arms across her chest, a large pout playing on her lips. Her little brother, Ryken brushed down her faded yellow dress with a rough bristled brush while her mother stood behind her on her tiptoes, plaiting her long blonde hair. And throwing it over her shoulder. "Honestly, Zenobia, cheer up...it is not everyday you are invited to The Capitol by the President,"

Zenobia scrunched up her face in disgust. "Only because he wants to get in my pants." this earned a slap over the head from her mother, her lips pierced together in anger. The blonde girl scowled at her mother before turning back to the window that overlooked the wide, open grain fields. She watched as a deer and fawn pranced through, their fur shimmering in the early morning light. Nine was poor, smelly and looked down upon by every other District but it could be beautiful and for a girl who hated change, it was the only place she ever wanted to be.

"Look, it is only for a few days and then you can come back, give the man a chance before labeling him a pervert." Zenobia scoffed at this, a defeated sigh escaping from his mother's lips as she hurried over to the bed. She knelt down and pulled from underneath a pair of high heeled, white shoes that were placed in a leather bound box. "These were mine for my wedding day and I was saving them for yours but they might come in handy now-"

"You would like me to get married to him, wouldn't you?" she snapped but when her mother's lips twisted like she had been sucking lemons, Zenobia quickly looked away and apologized. "Does it honestly not bother you that he is nine years older?" her mother shook her head. "Or that he asked me to The Capital based off my looks?" her mother gave a shrug as she lifted her daughter's leg up and placed a shoe on her foot.

"As I said, you don't like him, come home and we'll pretend this never happened...I wouldn't let you marry someone you was not happy with." she looked over to her mother, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Promise?"

"Promise,"

* * *

When she stepped outside her house into the humid heat of summer, she was greeted by a large mass of stoic Peacekeepers. Her mother pulled her back slightly but when one of them offered his hand out towards her, she took it, a fake smile plastered on her face. They escorted her to the train station, a large group of Nines walking behind her and cheering.

She blushed slightly until her eyes were met with that of President Ares Valor. He offered her a warm smile but Zenobia just recoiled. It was not that he was ugly, he was terrifying. The stocky gent towered above her, his scared, reddened face looking down at her. His head had been shaved in a futile attempt to hide the bald patches caused by stress and his lip was torn on one side, the stitches barely holding it together. In fact, the only thing the girl found attractive about his was his emerald green eyes.

Ares noticed her reaction and went red, clearing his throat and turning to walk on the train. The blonde girl reluctantly followed carrying her large bag of clothes, her head down low as she hoped none of the District was mocking her date with the war-battered man.

* * *

 **3 Years Ago...**

"You look very nice today, Zenobia," Ares said nervously, stumbling over the girl's name. He had been with her for four months and he still found her name hard to pronounce. His brother had resorted to calling her Zenoboobie. It made sense but he did not want to ruin his chances of her liking him even more than he already had. He sometimes envied his brothers looks. Despite being in the same explosion and war, Luxen had come out with nothing more than a scar on his chest and a few bullet wounds on his arms. He still looked at good as always. He did not even have poor hearing like Ares. However, over the years the man had become assured that his younger brother did not bat for that team and thus, was no threat to any advances on Zenobia.

The blonde girl was sat on a stone bench in the rose garden, in her faded yellow dress, twiddling a rose in her hand. When Ares spoke in his deep gruff voice the girl jumped out of her skin, and fell backwords off the bench. By the time Ares had thought about helping, she had already leaped to her feet and was brushing herself off. She then looked up at the man, what he said registering with her. A small blush formed on her cheeks as she looked away from him. "Thank you," she said softly.

A large smile formed on his lips as waved over a maid and took the large, white box from her. After the fall of The Capitol, the use of Avoxes were classed as inhumane and Ares could not agree more. Opting to hire his workers from poorer Districts instead.

"I saw this dress downtown today and...well, I thought it would suit you," he said, a lump rising in his throat. He offered the white box, covered in a blue ribbon, something that reminded him of Zenobia's eyes, and smiled. However, Zenobia just scowled at him, her blonde eyebrows knotting.

"So, my clothing is not good enough for you now?" she growled.

"I did not say that, I just thought you would like it-"

"Well you thought wrong!"

"Please just try it, it cost me a lot of money-"

"Fine!" Zenobia screamed, snatching the box out of the man's hand and storming off to her room.

* * *

The maid zipped up the shimmering blue dress and turned the blonde girl so she was facing the mirror. Despite how much she wanted to scowl, scream and rip it off, she liked it. A smile broke across her face and she started to laugh, twirling around the knee length dress.

"He picked well," the maid said, a large smile on her face.

"He did...didn't he?" Zenobia said through a smile, feeling the soft fabric of the skirt and the corset top.

"You make a very good couple-" she was cut off by Zenobia laughing as she walked away from the mirror.

"I hate him, he is never touching me in a million years,"

"But you like him-"

"Ha, what gave you that impression-"

"He will let you leave whenever you want yet you have been here for four months," she said softly, a small squeak escaping from Zenobia's throat. "You get up early in the morning to have breakfast with him...you wait in the garden afterward then leave after he has passed you on his walk-"

"Shut up!" Zenobia barked, turning and storming out the door, her high heel shoes clinking on the floor. It didn't matter what other people thought as long as she did not admit it to herself. She had made a promise to herself back in Nine that she would never have feelings for the man and she refused to let herself be proven wrong.

* * *

"I bet you don't know a hardship if it slapped you in the face, privileged twat!"

"I fought a war, to keep people like you safe-"

"Oh I am sorry, let me bow down before you-"

"You need to learn some respect-"

"Respect? You drag me away from home to try and fuck me!"

"Then leave!"

"I don't want to-"

"Why not?"

"Because I hate you so fucking much-"

"Why? Why do you hate me so much when I have done nothing but care for you-"

"Because I love you!" Zenobia screamed, her throat tearing as she finally forced out the words she had been hiding for so long. Her hand shot to her mouth while Ares stood in shock. Tears streamed towards her face as she ran at the man and slammed her fist into his muscular chest, Winding him slightly. She continued to slash at his chest with her nails until Ares attempted to push her away but she quickly pushed back, tripping him up and onto the bed. Before he had time to fight back. She sat on his stomach and threw punches at his face until Ares had both of her fists held tightly in his hands. He looked up her, flustered and confused as she started sobbing to herself, her body shaking. "I didn't want to love you, I tried so hard not to but I do...and it is not fair," she continued to sob as Ares let go of her hands and let them fall gently at her sides. He placed a hand on her cheek and wiped away a small tear before gently stroking her face with his thumb. "Make me hate you?" she pleaded a soft squeak coming out of her mouth. And with that, Ares pulled her forward and smacked his lips onto hers.

Zenobia sank into it almost immediately, not even hesitating as she moved with his lips. After a fair few minutes, she shuffled so she was sat on his pelvis and Ares right hand reached for the zip on her dress. Suddenly, a large clatter arose from the closet, causing Ares to throw Zenobia off himself and grabbed his gun.

"Ares!" Zenobia shouted as he cocked it and pointed it at the closet. Zenobia watched, her body shaking as Ares slowly moved towards the door before quickly pulling it open and pushing the gun towards the man inside. The intruder let out a high pitched scream and Ares lowered the gun with a sigh.

"Luxen-"

"I was not perving on you, I promise, neither of you are really my thing, she being a girl and you being my brother...you see you stole my shoes and then I got stuck when you came back early-"

"Get out!" Ares bellowed pointing towards the door. The blonde male gave a nod and raced towards the door, shoes in hand. As he passed Zenobia, he flashed her a quick smile. "Enjoy you night, Zenaboobi!" he giggled, scampering out the door and slamming it behind him.

* * *

Now...

Maria, a maid who had served Zenobia from the day she came to stay with Ares, stood by her side while a seamstress from District Eight pulled the fabric as tight as she could. Maria watched a breathless Zenobia as she twiddled with her blonde hair.

"I remember when you hated him...look at you both now," she said softly, a bright smile on her face. Zenobia looked up, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I never hated him, I hated myself for falling for him so easily," she laughed, the seamstress pinning the new dress. It was true, she took pride in being a free woman and for a man like Ares to sweep her off her feet without trying too hard made her feel useless. While Zenobia and Maria remembered the first time the young girl met Ares, the seamstress noticed something else.

She reached up and placed her hand on Zenobia's stomach then quickly stood up and squeezed her breasts. "What are you doing?" she growled, moving away from the women. The middle-aged woman looked over to Maria, a concerned look on her face.

Maria gave a quick nod and turned to a frightened Zenobia. "Miss Kasius, when did you last bleed?" The blonde girl looked at the floor, her eyes widening.

"I am not sure...I don't tend to keep track...maybe, three months?" as she spoke these words, the realization hit her, sadness washed over her as her hand shot to her stomach.

"You are going to need a bigger dress," the seamstress sighed, trotting off into the back of the shop. Maria placed her hand on Zenobia's shoulder in comfort but the girl pushed her off.

"What am I going to do?" she cried, tears streaming from her eyes. With so much uncertainty in the terms of Panem's future, the last thing she wanted to do was to bring a child into the world. However, at the same time, she wanted a child with Ares more than anything.

"You tell Ares and Luxen," she said with a warm smile. It was easier said than done. Luxen would be over the moon, she could already hear his chants about being an uncle. However, Ares was already paranoid about the safety of her and his brother, throw his child into the mix and he might go into overload. After all, the one thing you don't mess with is a man's child.

* * *

 **Wooooo, Valor baby and Luxen is going to be an uncle.**

 **Questions:**

 **What do you think to the baby? (3 points)**

 **Do you think anything will happen to it? (3 points)**

 **How do you think Ares will react? (3 points)**

 **How do you think Panem will react? (3 points)**

 **What did you think to the chapter as a whole? (3 points)**

 **Thoughts on how Zenobia and Ares met? (3 points)**

 **How old is Zenobia currently? (1 points)**

 **Until next time!**


End file.
